The head of an all girls' school had a letter in last week's Times, extolling the virtues of single sex education. I wholeheartedly agreed with everything she said until she added that she was trying to get a ps on the school motto stating "I did not emerge from the womb holding a duster." What feminist clap-trap. My career as a journalist might not have been on Fleet Street, but a career I did have and I can honestly say that nothing I achieved in the office could compare to the feeling of satisfaction I got when I flopped into a comfy chair with a cup of coffee after having cleaned the house from top to bottom using my trusty yellow duster.
Raising children, cleaning, baking and taking a pride in the home are jobs that should not be demeaned and to my mind are every bit as important as moving up a rung on the career ladder.
Instead of a stick to kill people with, Oscar took a spanner into Sunday School today. I wasn't sure how he would weave it into the Bible story and I even found myself thinking up reasons that we could give, if questioned. As luck would have it, he found a drum more interesting and I was able to slip the spanner into my bag. Half way through the service he piped up in a loud voice "when are we getting the bread and wine grandma?" Sticks, spanners, cups of wine........ I can see we're going to be viewed as partners in crime.
My mother spent a couple of days in hospital last week. So for reassurance I got her a big red mobile phone with large numbers to keep in her bedroom in case she ever felt too unwell to get to her phone in the kitchen. I instructed her never to turn it off and to leave it on the table next to the bed. When I called on her today I saw that the phone was not on the table next to the bed. "No," she said, "It's in its box in my wardrobe so that it doesn't get dusty."
